Something Borrowed
by Wendy Blue
Summary: Weddings bring out the emotions in all of us. JimPam with a bit of Karen.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This has a possibility to be more than a one-shot, but it depends on the response I get. Oh and I posted this in another fanfic place, so apologies in advance if you've seen it already. If not, enjoy!**

The gentle clinking of knives against champagne glasses was almost deafening as Michael stood to face the crowded hall.

"For those of you who don't know, I am Michael Scott, Regional Manager of Dunder Mifflin Paper Company. I've known these kids for quite some time. I watched them meet in our building, watched them fall in love, watched them do the deed under the stairwell during lunch hour…don't try and deny it you two rascals! No, but seriously, it has been a joy watching these two come together, and even more so when I think that I may have had a little something do with it. To the bride and groom! Mazeltov!"

Bob and Phyllis shared a small kiss at the head table at the conclusion of Michael's toast as the other guests cheered for the newly married couple. Jim sat back, bemused at his boss's predictable antics and smiling warmly at the adoration with which the newlyweds looked at each other. And as he surveyed the whole room, he saw that weddings could indeed bring out sides of even the most hard-shelled and emotionally frigid co-workers. Stanley had left his trusty crossword puzzle at home for the occasion, looking genuinely happy for his desk mate. Angela even sent warm and supportive looks toward Phyllis while tenderly holding Dwight's hand. And perhaps the most surprising was Ryan's attendance and sincere emotion during the ceremony, a weeping Kelly clinging to his arm. The staff had unexpectedly bonded under the consensus that it couldn't have happened to a more deserving couple.

Well, Jim thought as he stared into his champagne, not necessarily.

"Don't tell me you're going to start getting sappy on me," Karen said with a smirk, as she sat down beside him, handing him a plate of wedding cake.

"You're one to talk, I saw you dabbing your eyes during the ceremony."

"I'm a girl, I'm allowed to cry," Karen stated, taking a triumphant bite of cake. She had curled her hair for the occasion. Jim pushed down the uneasy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach to see her normally straight hair bouncing in loose curls, half of it pulled back in a barrette.

"Are we going for a Shirley Temple look today?" he teased as he gently pulled at a curl, letting it go and watching it spring back into place.

"Yeah, but I left my bloomers at home and the tap shoes are in the repair shop so the look isn't complete," she quipped back. They certainly worked well together; like an Abbott and Costello who just happened to sleep in the same bed and try to get ready in the same cramped bathroom the next morning.

Jim felt an all too familiar tug at his heart as he watched Bob and Phyllis make their way to dance floor to have their first dance as man and wife. He admired their love for each other: simple, quiet, and completely boundless. He felt Karen's hand intertwine with his, giving it a small squeeze. He looked to see her gazing at the couple, lightly biting her bottom lip and her eyes plagued with a question. A question he already knew and wasn't sure he was ready to answer. For as much as he wanted to assure her that it would someday be them dancing with noses touching and a mile-wide grin, he was tired of making half-hearted promises. Because when you've had a fantasy for four years of a petite, pale brunette dancing with you in a cream colored dress and a look of utter joy in her eyes , it's not easy to suddenly replace her with a Mediterranean beauty who could easily wound you with the right glare. So he resigned to squeezing her hand back, keeping his eyes focused on Bob and Phyllis so that she wouldn't see the uncertainty in them.

The DJ signaled for other couples to join the new "King and Queen of Refrigeration" on the floor, and with a pang of guilt for his previous thoughts, Jim led Karen onto the dance floor. She nestled her body against his as he began to move their bodies to the slow rhythm. He breathed in the smell of citrus from her hair; it's how his bathroom smelled after she had taken a shower. It was strong and vibrant, just like her. And on those rare occasions when she didn't sleep over, he could still smell it on his pillow, and it gave him enough comfort to lull him into sleep.

He lost his train of thought as a pair of timid green eyes locked with his across the room. With no daughters and only one sister, Phyllis had asked Pam to be a bridesmaid. And he thought he could hear God laughing at his fun joke when she brushed her now straight hair back from her face. The simple green dress fit in all the right places, cascading down to her bubblegum pink toenails. She was dancing with a groomsmen, keeping a safe distance between their bodies and moving rather stiffly. When they made eye contact, his breath hitched and he was quite glad Karen had her cheek against his, unable to see what he was now blatantly staring at.

Pam gave him a small smile while she danced with the groomsmen who, by the way he kept stumbling and looking down at the floor, had two left feet. He returned it, still not taking his eyes off of her. How could he? She looked like art, like a portrait he'd seen in countless museums but would still take his breath away every time he saw it.

Then the whole room started to slip away into haze, and soon it was just the two of them, with locked gaze, being able to move with each other even in the arms of another. And it was almost too much for Jim to take. The song ended, quickly turning into "Celebration" and Jim was grateful for the excuse to get away. He started to leave when a small hand grabbed his.

"Hey, where you off to in such a hurry?" Karen asked with concern.

"Just, uhh, going to the bathroom. I'll be back in a bit," he said moving quickly towards the back of the reception hall, not bothering to look back at her undoubtedly worried face. The route to the bathroom led right past Pam, and he tried desperately not to look at her as he sprinted into the men's room. Sink to the left, toilet to the right. He could either dunk his head in cold water or throw up. In the end he settled on splashing his face vigorously, rubbing his face to get the vision of Pam with straight hair and a dress the color of her eyes out of his head. He wondered how it could be that even after six months of being with an intelligent and beautiful woman, one look from Pam could reduce him to the weak and frail boy he saw in the mirror. Jim wiped his hands across his tie and jacket where water had been stained before finally dismissing it. People were handling Michael's powder blue tux, they could handle a few water spots.

He was greeted with the sight of Pam and Karen chatting over champagne as he made his way back to the reception hall. Karen had said something to make Pam throw her head back with laughter, her nose slightly scrunching and eyes shut tight with happiness. Ever since they had planned the alternate Christmas party together, he had felt uneasy seeing their comradery. The two women represented such two different points of time in his life, and coming together created an ambiguous entity where Jim couldn't tell where love began and lust ended. He mustered up some bravery and forced a smile as he walked toward them.

"Nothing good or innocent can be coming out of the conversation you two are having," he said as light-heartedly as possible.

Pam and Karen shared a look and for a moment Jim thought he could see something the tiniest bit of guilt in Pam.

"She wants to steal you away from me," Karen said nodding her head in Pam's direction.

Jim's mouth went dry and he barely managed to squeak out "What?"

"To dance. I was telling her to try at her own risk because let's face it Halpert, who wants size twelve dress shoes crushing your feet?"

Pam looked at him expectantly, biting her lip, as he knew she always did when she was worried but trying to keep calm.

"Yeah, sure…uh, why not?" he mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets and shuffling his feet onto the dance floor. They stood there in the middle of the room, laughing a little as they figured out which hands go where, how close is too close, and silently wondering if it's a good idea to be in such close and intimate proximity. Jim lightly placed his right hand on her hip as she let her hand rest on his shoulder. Their free hands linked and eyes locked while the soft music crooned from the speakers. It was a love ballad, that much Jim could tell, but he wasn't focusing on the lyrics. He was focusing on how to will his heartbeat to slow down in fear that she could feel it thumping from his chest.

"Thanks," she whispered, and he realized this is the first thing he's heard her say all night. "You saved me from yet another dance with Joe Vance, Vance Plumbing," she said with a laugh.

Jim smirked. "You're telling me you didn't want to be dazzled with the details of clogged pipes? I'm shocked." He looked down and smiled seeing that he had gotten another laugh out of her. She was absolutely stunning, her hair shining with honey highlights that stood out with the lack of curls in her hair. He breathed in and caught the smell of lavender and jasmine. Soft and comforting, just like her.

"You look…" he paused, trying to find a neutral adjective, one that didn't scream, "I can't take my eyes off of you." She looked up at him, patiently waiting. "Beautiful," he finished. Pink rushed to Pam's cheeks as she averted her gaze to the floor, a smile playing at her lips. So not as neutral as he had hoped, but it was the truth and even that word didn't do her appearance justice.

"Thanks. It's weird seeing everyone outside of work isn't it? Especially at something like this, if I didn't know better, I'd say everyone was pretty…"

"Normal," he finished her thought and they both laughed because they both knew the Dunder Mifflin co-workers were anything but. Maybe they would have had a shot at being average employees at any other company, but when Michael Scott hired them, none of them stood a chance. And though he wasn't ever sure he'd admit it, Jim wouldn't have it any other way.

Bob and Phyllis were dancing to their left, completely giddy and unable to stop smiling. Phyllis glanced at Pam and Jim and gave them a shy wave before turning back to her husband.

"I'm happy for them," Pam said sweetly. "You know, when Roy and I were engaged, I never really thought about the wedding day."

Jim knit his brows together. "What do you mean?"

"I thought about the day after. When there would be no more wedding plans to be made, no arrangements, no more waiting. We would just be married, and ready to start the rest of our lives together."

Jim nodded his head, unsure of what to say. He was afraid that if he spoke, what would come out is how he had imagined that day too many times than he'd care to reveal. Waking up with her head on his chest, a ring glimmering on her left hand, knowing that from now on, she was his.

The song ended and it killed him to stop the fluidity of their movement together and pull back. Pam held onto his forearms, looking up at him with her mouth slightly open as if about to say something. But he had to beat her to it.

"That's going to happen someday. The day after, I mean." _With me_ is how he silently finished the thought, and he wondered if she had filled in the blank the same way.

"I hope so," she said quietly, her eyes still fixed on him.

"All right, if I could have everyone's attention please?" the DJ boomed through his mic. "The new Mrs. Vance will now be throwing the bouquet so if we could have all the eligible ladies make their way to the floor…"

A herd of manic women pushed their way to center of the room in an attempt to find the most ideal spot. Jim and Pam had still maintained eye contact even as they had been edged out from the dance floor when Kelly suddenly sprang up beside Pam.

"Pam! Come on, this'll be so much fun! Oh my god I hope I catch it, wouldn't that be amazing?" Pam shot a desperate look at Jim as if to say, "Help me" and he merely grinned at gave her a big thumbs up as she was dragged into the crowd. He even saw Karen make her way over to stand next to Pam. When he looked at her questioningly (he thought she hated these silly wedding traditions), she merely rolled her eyes and shrugged, trying to convey apathy. But Jim knew better as he could see a bit of anxiousness in her demeanor.

Phyllis made her way to the elevated stage, looming over the throng of women. She turned her back and heaved the bouquet of lilies behind her. Jim heard it land in someone's hands, but couldn't see amongst the grappling of shrieking women. When the floor cleared, he felt his heart drop. Pam held one end of the now crumpled flowers while Karen held the other.

And as if on cue, they both turned toward Jim.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you so much for your kind words about the story! I'm glad it received the response it did because I did not want to stop writing this one! And the feedback gave me the drive to knock out the second chapter in the same day. See what reviews do to me? That's why you should keep them coming. Again, I can't thank you guys enough for reading. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned The Office. That would mean I would know John Krasinski, and all would be right in the world.**

He had always been a fan of practical jokes. Bringing someone's obnoxiously large ego down to more a more reasonable size was Jim's forte. He was starting to think that maybe this was karma. For as he stood looking at the two main women in his life, each holding a piece of matrimonial symbolism, he could think of no other possible explanation for it than the universe trying to playing the ultimate joke at his expense.

The crowd awkwardly clapped for Pam and Karen and quickly dispersed back to their delegated tables to dine on Chili's-catered food and cheap champagne. Jim took a deep breath and walked tentatively toward the two women, picking up bits of their conversation.

"Please take it."

"Are you kidding? You're much closer to that actually happening than I am."

"I hate these traditions anyway, I don't know why I even joined in. Seriously, take it."

Jim cleared his throat, and Pam and Karen jumped slightly at his sudden presence.

"Congratulations. You've both managed to make every other woman in this room extremely bitter," Jim said, hoping humor could save the situation at hand.

Pam and Karen laughed nervously, exchanging glances with each other.

"Here," Karen said, splitting the bouquet into two smaller ones. "Now we both have a shot," she said as she handed one to Pam.

Jim could see the already small amount of color in Pam's face drain as she lightly touched the petals of the bouquet. She kept her head down for a moment causing a piece of hair to fall in front of her slightly furrowed brows. Jim wanted nothing more than to tuck the piece behind her ear, grazing her cheek while he did, but soon she looked up with a small smile.

"Well, why not? Couldn't hurt right? I'm going to go put these in my car before Joe Vance gets any big ideas," Pam said with a laugh, turning to leave.

"That's a good idea. I think I'll do the same and ditch the evidence that I actually took part in that ridiculous ritual," Karen smirked.

"Oh, you know what? How about I take those out to the car? I think we left the card for the gift in there anyway," Jim lied, speaking a bit too fast than he had intended.

"Okay…" Karen raised an eyebrow at him. "You sure you're all right?"

Jim swallowed. "Yeah, definitely. I'll be back in a bit," he leaned down and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. Her face relaxed into a smile and with one last glance at him, headed back toward their table.

Jim turned to Pam and smiled. "Lead the way, Beesley."

xxx

The two walked slowly out to the parking lot, as if each step brought their rare time alone closer to an end. It was an unusually warm night for April, and the rose bushes surrounding the hotel lightly perfumed the air. They walked in silence, and had it been anyone else, Jim thought, the awkwardness would have been suffocating. But not with Pam. Even with recent circumstances, they still managed to hold on to the quality Jim cherished most in their relationship: their ability to be perfectly content in the silences as well as the laughter.

"So," Pam began. "How long until Phyllis has a mini-fridge next to her desk?"

"Why stop there? Soon she'll have her own freezer and Dunder-Mifflin will be turned into an old fashioned ice cream parlor," he said grinning at her.

"Michael would start wearing a bowler and a candy cane striped suit," Pam said, her laughter growing louder. "Can you imagine?"

"After seeing Michael wear that suit tonight, it's hard to imagine what he _wouldn't_ wear." The two laughed until they were out of breath. Pam leaned against her car door, still giggling as she tilted her head up toward the sky. Jim had no shame in watching her, taking the sight of her in. They rarely had times like this anymore: away from the pressure of work and alone to enjoy each other's company without a camera breathing down their neck. Pam ran the flower through her long fingers, the fingers Jim imagined so poised and steady creating paint strokes across a canvas. He leaned against the car next to hers so that he faced her and slouched a bit so he too could comfortably tilt his back.

"What are you looking for?" Jim asked, his eyes still focused on the sky.

"Dwight's home planet," Pam answered without missing a beat. "I'm going to flag it down with my laser pointer and tell them that they forgot one down here."

Jim pulled his head forward. "Laser pointer? Maybe they forgot _two_ down here…"

She raised her head and pretended to glare at him. "Suck it, Halpert."

"Pam, please," he said feigning seriousness. "We're at a wedding, let's try to have some decorum."

She giggled, scrunching her nose at him and Jim had to remind himself to breathe.

"Oh no," she said sadly, looking down at her hands. The lily had broken off from the stem and now laid in the palm of Pam's hand.

"That can't be a good sign," Pam said with a laugh.

"Nah, you just have to improvise," Jim said, moving toward her. He took the lily from her hand, his fingertips momentarily grazing her palm, and slid the lily behind her right ear. He spotted a bobby pin securing a piece of hair away from her face.

"Can I?" he asked.

Pam merely nodded, her lips pressed firmly together. Jim took the pin and secured the lily behind her ear. He imagined this is what she might have looked like had the honeymoon to Hawaii occurred. There would have been hundreds of pictures of her on the beach, wearing a floppy hat and big sunglasses to match a big grin. And a wildflower in her hair. Jim suddenly realized his hand was still cupped behind her ear and her green eyes were peering up at him with curiosity. He blushed and tore his hand away.

"There you go, problem solved," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets as if to hide proof of where they'd been.

"Your knowledge of women's hair accessories and how to apply them is a little scary," Pam teased.

He playfully poked in her in the ribs and she laughed as she latched on to his hand trying to thwart it away. Then her laughter stopped short when her grasp lingered. Pam began to pull her hand away and before he could think twice, Jim held it tighter, afraid she'd slip away.

They stared at their clasped hands, neither speaking a word. Jim remembered the last time they had stood in a parking lot not too different from this one, when he had taken the biggest risk of his life only to be met with defeat. He wasn't sure he had the strength to do it again, to lay everything he had to offer in front of her and have it be rejected again. No, he decided, this time around she would have to take a chance.

She'd have to take a chance on something sometime.

"Jim." It was so soft it sounded like a breath, but it was enough to make him look her in the eye. The gold flecks in her eyes were flickering and he knew she was on the brink of something. She was so close and he was so proud. He moved closer to her, trying to send her strength with everything in him.

"There you are! I was wondering what happened to…" a voice trailed off. Jim and Pam jumped and turned to see a disheartened Karen. Pam gasped and pulled her hand to her necklace, clutching the charm in nervousness.

Karen looked from Pam to Jim, her mouth slightly agape. Jim racked his brain for the right thing to say. There were plenty of lies, plenty of excuses, plenty of things that could attempt to stop the tear slowly trailing down Karen's cheek. But he couldn't form the words.

Karen hung her head and let out a defeated sigh. She hurriedly wiped the tear away and moved to where Jim had placed her bouquet of flowers on the hood of the car adjacent to Pam's. She carefully gathered them up, looking at them longingly, before finally turning and handing them to Pam.

Without a word or a final glance at Jim, Karen climbed into her car and drove away.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: You guys, your feedback has been amazing and is seriously what is fueling this story. You rock. I struggled a bit with this chapter and so a huge thanks goes to Cousin Mose for helping me out. This chapter wouldn't be up right now if it weren't for you. And of course thank you to all who've been following this story, it means a lot. Enjoy this chapter, and keep those reviews coming!**

**Disclaimer: If I ever own The Office, it'll probably be a sign of the apocalypse.**

Jim watched Karen's taillights disappear from the parking lot, and was overcome with mixed feelings of hurt and relief. His relentless love for Pam had hurt yet another woman, another woman that he had thought maybe he could move on with. But there was a bigger part of him that had stopped him from doing it. And at the moment, Jim was glad it did.

He looked at the ground for a bit, shuffling his feet, listening to Pam's shallow breathing next to him.

"I'm sorry," she said after a couple minutes of silence.

"Don't be."

"No, that was…I was her friend, you know? Or at least I tried to be, and then I just let myself…" Pam rambled, beginning to pace by her car.

"Pam, calm down…" Jim grabbed her bare shoulders gently in an effort to make her sit still.

"Why didn't you go after her?"

He certainly wasn't expecting that question, especially from Pam. Wasn't it obvious? Then again, Jim thought, nothing had really been said aloud. It was a multitude of inside jokes, glances, and touches that when put together clearly spelled out why Jim hadn't gone after Karen. He knew Pam wanted to hear him say it, yet he still didn't have the heart. She needed to take this one, and if it meant giving her a little nudge in the right direction, so be it.

Jim looked at her earnestly. "Why didn't you marry Roy?"

Pam opened her mouth, her eyes wide with fear. "That's not fair."

"Neither is watching my girlfriend/ride drive away from me, Pam, but I'm still here. Neither is finding out from Michael of all people that you called off your wedding, but I'm still here. Neither is physically removing myself from the state when you turned me down because I was in so much pain. And yet I'm still here." He wasn't completely comfortable with his tone of voice, but he was so scared of losing the momentum they had been building up that night, a little tough love was necessary.

"How the hell was I supposed to tell you that I didn't get married? Send you a quick e-mail saying 'Hey Jim! How's Stamford? By the way, I called off my wedding!'"

"Which is so much worse than the e-mail I got from Michael saying 'Jimboree, your Pamorama view is now single. Why don't you get on that like white on rice?'"

"Right, because you're _so_ great at communication. You didn't even tell me you were transferring, Jim! You left without even so much as a goodbye!"

"You broke my heart!" Jim shouted but then grew quiet as his words echoed in his head. He looked down when he spoke again. "I could barely look at you, let alone say goodbye to you."

He looked up and saw Pam's eyes glistening with tears. Jim swallowed hard to keep the lump from rising in his throat.

"I have to go," she said quietly.

"Pam, wait—" Jim croaked. But before he could stop her, she climbed into her car and sped off. For the second time that night, Jim watched a pair of taillights pull away from the parking lot. The difference was, his heart trailed after the second car.

xxx

And just in case Jim didn't have his fill of humiliation, he was forced to ask Michael for a ride home. He briefly thought he'd be able to go the fifteen-minute ride back to his apartment without being interrogated. But Michael wanted, as he put it, "the dealio."

"Karen and I broke up tonight…sort of."

"You gave her the axe huh? Kicked her to the curb? Left her high and dry? Hit it then quit it?"

"Wow, okay, stop. I didn't plan on it ending tonight, it just happened."

Michael eyed Jim. "This wouldn't have anything to do with our little Pamwich, would it?"

Jim pulled at a thread coming loose on the passenger's seat. "Yeah, it did. We had this, moment I guess, in the parking lot and Karen saw it."

"Well if you two had a moment, why didn't she drive you back to your place to…" Michael wagged his eyebrows.

Jim rolled his eyes. "Things just got weird, we started yelling at each other, and she just left. I don't know, I thought that after Karen left, it was clear where we stood. And she just ran away…again."

"Did you try and stop her?"

"No! I'm tired of running after her!" Jim shouted. He took a deep breath, frustrated with allowing himself to be vulnerable again, and of all places, in front of Michael.

"Sorry, I'm just frustrated," Jim said, shaking his head and staring out the passenger window.

"No problem, Jim Bean. And listen, don't be so hard on Pam. She'll come around, and if you really love her, you'll wait."

Jim was taken aback at his boss's oddly logical advice. For all of Michael's immature and often-inappropriate behavior, he had a good heart and Jim was grateful for it. He gave a crooked smile.

"Thanks Michael, I'll see you on Monday," Jim said as the car pulled up in front of his apartment.

"Yes indeedy. Hey do you want some company? We could open a couple of brewskies, play some X-Box—"

"You know what, sounds tempting, but I'm pretty wiped out. Take a rain-check though!" And before Michael could say another word, Jim shut the passenger door, giving one last wave before sprinting upstairs.

The apartment felt cold, and for the first time since he'd moved in, he wished he still had a roommate. Karen had been over so much that she had started to feel like one and Jim was used to having the company. It hadn't been a bad relationship at all, one of his healthiest in fact. They had fallen into a comfortable routine that Jim was sure that he could get used to. Eventually. After work she'd come over and make dinner for the two of them, which Jim didn't mind at all since she made incredible Italian food. They would talk for hours over wine, or watch mindless reality TV. Then they'd retreat to bed, holding each other close till they drifted away to sleep. It had never gone beyond that, and as Jim thought back on it realized that it should have been an indication of him still loving Pam. Every time things seemed to be leading to something more intimate with Karen, he'd stop it. In his gut he knew it would be taking advantage, and he refused to let himself be that kind of guy.

A curling iron was strewn about the bathroom counter next to a can of hairspray and some makeup. It was all that was

left of a relationship based on denial and his desperate need to move on.

xxx

Jim groaned as he heard a loud pounding on his door the next morning. It was Sunday, and the thought of doing anything other than drinking beer, watching football and wallowing made him sick. By the ferocity of the knocking, he knew exactly who was on the other side of the door. He threw on an old t-shirt and shuffled his way over to the door, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to wake up. He opened the door to reveal a tired looking Karen, holding a single cardboard moving box.

Jim leaned against the doorframe. "Hey."

"I just came by to pick some stuff up. I brought over the few things you left at my place." Karen's voice was stiff, trying not to show any emotion. Jim knew she worked hard to maintain her tough exterior, and he felt pangs of guilt knowing that he had caused that exterior to crumble the night before. Karen looked over Jim's shoulder. "She's not…I mean, is she…"

"No, she's not here. Come on in." Karen walked briskly into the apartment, heading straight for his bedroom. He could hear whatever items were in the box being dumped forcefully onto the bed. Jim groaned, knowing he was in for a rough morning. He found that being emotionally drained was a lot like a hangover: a dull pain resonating throughout his body that could be slightly cured with either time or more alcohol. Since he had neither, he opted for coffee and moved to the kitchen to make the strongest pot possible.

He heard Karen move on into the bathroom, rummaging through cabinets and carelessly tossing them into the box. She finally emerged back into the living room, placing the box on his coffee table with a sigh.

"I think I got everything. If you find anything else, bring it to work tomorrow," she said as she looked in her purse for her keys, not looking up at Jim.

"Wait, Karen, stay for a minute. I've…got coffee," he offered weakly. She finally turned her head to him. Yep, he thought, there's that look: the one that could wound. He'd been on the receiving end of that look in a teasing way before, but this one was for real.

Karen nodded and took a seat at the kitchen table, drumming her fingers softly against the wooden surface. Jim poured her a cup, making it the way she knew she liked: black with one packet of Splenda. He didn't particularly like the sweetener, but he'd started buying it for her when things had gotten more serious.

"Thanks," she said softly as he handed her the cup, taking the chair across from her.

Jim stared down at his own mug of coffee, unsure of how to begin. He didn't know how much of his past with Pam she wanted to hear, and was terrified of upsetting her.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" she asked finally.

Jim sat thoughtfully for a moment, figuring out where to begin. He proceeded to tell her the entire story: how they'd met, her dysfunctional relationship with Roy, the friendship they created, and finally how he'd finally told her of his feelings only to be turned down. He explained that that was his reason for the transfer to Stamford.

"Then I met you. You were beautiful and intelligent and kept me from losing my mind at work. And I thought that it was something I could get on board with. Finally being with someone who actually wanted to be with me too." He paused before continuing. "But then the merger happened. And seeing her again made me realize that I only thought I had moved on. One of those 'out of sight, out of mind' things, you know? Like if I was somewhere else where I didn't have to see her everyday, it meant that I could get past her. But it turns out that wasn't the case." He reached out and took her hand, holding it gently.

"I'm so sorry I put you in the middle of this. It was unfair and I'm sorry you had to find all of it out like you did."

Karen gave a small smile. "Well, thank you for coming clean. It explains a lot." She took a final sip of her coffee before getting up from the table.

"Congratulations on getting her, Jim. I know she'll make you happy."

"A little too soon for congratulations, I think. We somehow got into a fight last night after you left and I have no idea where we stand."

Karen looked puzzled. "Well, did you tell her how you feel?"

Jim was starting to grow tired of that question and sighed in exasperation. "No, but I thought it was pretty obvious."

Karen shook her head with a smile. "Halpert, every time I start to think you're different from other guys, you reassure me that you aren't. You can't expect her to just assume how you feel just from last night. She needs to hear it. Now I know you've already put yourself out there once," Karen held out a hand as Jim began to protest. "But you're the guy. You need to initiate these things. At least make an attempt to see her, and I bet you she'll open up. She just needs to know you want to hear it."

Jim was in awe of how adult Karen was handling this. They had just broken up and she was giving him advice on how to get the woman he loves. He opened the front door for her and smiled.

"You're great, Filipelli. You're going to find someone a lot better for you than I ever could have been."

"Yeah, I know," she winked at him. "Good luck." They exchanged a hug before she carried her now-full box down the stairs to her car. Jim closed the door, breathing a sigh of relief and mustered up some courage as he grabbed his phone and dialed Pam's number.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hooray for another chapter! I suppose I could have ended the story here, but where would be the fun in that? So this chapter doesn't exactly show Jim's most shining moments, but Pam's reaction to them (or how I would imagine she's react to them) shows why these two are meant to be. I actually did a bit of research for this chapter; I'll let you guess for which part. Read! Review! You'll make me a very happy person if you do. **

On ring one, Jim almost hung up. On ring two, he told himself to grow a pair and do what he needed to do. On ring three, his palms started to sweat and he wasn't sure he could keep the phone from slipping out of his hands. It was in the middle of ring four that she finally picked up.

"Hello?" Pam answered, sounding breathless. Jim's heart leapt into his throat and fumbled awkwardly with the phone.

"Hi," was all he managed to squeak out, his voice cracking.

"Jim?"

"Yeah…umm…hi. I said that already, but yeah. How—how are you?" He rolled his eyes at his pathetic attempt at conversation.

"I'm okay, you?" Her voice was a little shaky and Jim wondered how two intelligent adults could be reduced to such incoherency.

"Good, I'm good…" he trailed off. There was silence on her end and Jim was getting anxious. Now or never, he thought to himself. "So, about last night—"

"Jim, I am so sorry for running out on you like that. I was just so confused and emotional and didn't know what to do…" Pam's mouth was running a mile a minute and he could barely understand her. Jim smiled to himself. Karen was right: all she needed was for him to begin and she would fill in the rest.

"Whoa, Beesley, slow down, I didn't hear half of that," he laughed. He heard her exhale and could see her in his mind beginning to smile.

"Listen, I don't want to do this over the phone," Jim felt his stomach do flips and had flashbacks to high school, as though he was asking the prom queen out on a date. "Will you have dinner with me tonight?"

"Yes!" Pam answered quickly, her enthusiasm contagious. Jim beamed.

"Good, I'll pick you up at 6:00."

"You don't have to pick me up, it's out of your way, and I can always just meet you somewhere." Jim could hear the guilt in her voice as she continued to make up for the night before.

"How do you know it's out of my way? I didn't even tell you where we're going," he teased. "Besides, I need to see the bachelorette pad of Fancy New Beesley for myself."

She giggled and Jim's smile grew bigger knowing he had caused it. "Alright, fine. But at least tell me where we're going."

"All in due time, Beesley. I'll see you at 6:00."

"Okay. Bye Jim," she said happily.

"Bye Pam." He hung up the phone and sunk into his couch with a sigh, contentment coursing through his body.

xxx

The rest of the day, Jim was the kind of happy he thought only existed in the movies. He wore a smile on his face, whistled as he cleaned his apartment, and had a bounce in his step as he wandered through town to do errands. For the first time in years, he felt like life was falling into place. With the right woman beside him to watch it all happen.

Jim's eagerness brought him to Pam's doorstep at 6:50. He rang the doorbell and bounced a bit in place waiting for her to answer. The door swung open and he saw a frazzled Pam, hunched over in an attempt to put on a heel.

"You're early!" she exclaimed.

"Which is quite a feat considering I stopped to pick up this." Jim pulled from behind his back a single lily, identical to the one he had placed in her ear the previous night. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the flower, a light pink blush creeping into her cheeks.

"Give me two minutes," she said, stepping aside to let Jim in. "Make yourself at home," she called over her shoulder as she raced back into her bedroom. Jim smiled at her words. "Pam" and "home" together in the same thought made his heart begin to race and though he knew he was getting a bit ahead of himself, he wasn't about to let their technical first date after three years of friendship stop him from hoping.

Jim surveyed her new apartment. It was so wonderfully Pam: small pieces of art hung up on walls and an easel set up facing her window. Two bookcases framed her small couch and pictures of her family adorned her various end tables and shelves. Jim picked one up and examined it. He recognized Pam's mother in the picture, looking quite a bit younger with a small curly-haired girl in her lap. Without a moment's doubt, he knew it was Pam. She was laughing and clapping her hands together, wearing a bright red dress and her golden brown curls swept halfway back. Her smile, the one he'd loved from the first day he met her, was the just the same even then. This was the genuine Pam that for many years he only saw in brief, shining moments: a prank successfully pulled on Dwight, too many "second drinks" at the Dundies, her mercilessly beating him in poker . With the new life she had begun to make for herself, Jim had a feeling he would be seeing a lot more of the little girl so perfectly captured in the photograph he held.

He set the picture back down as he heard Pam step into the living room. She wore a simple, white lace dress matched with a pink cardigan and white heels. And to Jim's delight, her hair was back to its curly state.

"You look great. Though I am glad I changed before I left, I was _this_ close to wearing that exact same outfit."

Pam grinned broadly at him before throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. Jim was caught off guard and stumbled back a bit till he regained his balance and wrapped his arms around her waist. This was how it should be, he thought, always. He smiled.

"What was that for?"

Pam pulled back a bit, hands touching his face to answer and shrugged. "I'm happy."

Jim's smile grew bigger. "Me too." They stared at each other for a few more moments, their happiness radiating from their smiles before Jim took her hand and led her to his car.

xxx

Jim remembered Pam mentioning taking French classes in high school and being fascinated with French culture. So he had had taken it upon himself to make reservations at an upscale French restaurant called "Odette's" in New Hope. He had researched the restaurant earlier that day and knew it was the perfect place for their first date: candle-lit with white linen tablecloths, gourmet food, and quiet enough to provide for intimate conversation. Sure it was a tad pricey, but Jim would find a way to buy all of France for her if he knew it'd make her happy.

Sure enough, he saw Pam's eyes light up at the sight of the elegant restaurant.

"Is this where we're eating?" she asked incredulously, her jaw dropped.

"But of course," Jim said, trying on his best French accent. Pam roared with laughter.

"Do I have to start calling you Pierre?"

"Mais oui," he said with a wink as he leapt out of the car, sprinting to her door in order to open it for her. She began to climb out when suddenly Jim lost his grip and the door came swinging back at her.

"Pam!" he cried. He quickly pulled the car door back open. "I am so sorry, are you okay?"

Pam rubbed the part of her leg where the door had hit, and to Jim's relief, laughing. "I'm fine, though apparently I'm going to have to start calling you 'butterfingers.'" Jim chuckled a bit, but mentally chastised himself for being so clumsy. He led her through the front doors, watching her delight in the romantic ambience and the French art hung throughout the dining room. Jim strolled up to the hostess at the front.

"Hi, I have reservations for two. The name is Halpert."

The hostess peered over her glasses at Jim and Pam before scrolling down the list in front of her.

"How do you spell it?" she asked flatly. Jim began to grow nervous.

"H-a-l-p-e-r-t." He glanced back at Pam, smiling and waiting patiently.

The hostess continued to scroll down the list. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't see your name."

"What? No, there has to be a mistake. I called today—"

"With whom did you speak?"

"I don't know, it was a guy—"

"Young or old?"

"Not really young…but not really old either…"

"Deep voice or high pitched?"

"Look!" Jim raised his voice, causing several tables around the restaurant to raise their heads in disdain. He cleared his throat and spoke softer. "Look, there has to be something you can do. My—" he looked once again at Pam, who was softly biting the corner of her lip, brows slightly furrowed. He began to say girlfriend, but with the way the night was going, decided not to chance it. "I just don't want to let her down," Jim whispered to the hostess. "Please."

The hostess gave one more look at Pam before turning back to Jim. "Wait at the bar, I'll see what we can do." She motioned for the two of them to follow her and briskly led them to the rear of the restaurant. Jim mouthed to Pam "I'm sorry" as they walked and was relieved when Pam squeezed his hand and mouthed back "It's okay."

The bar was elegant, and while it wasn't a guaranteed table, Jim felt he had to take what he could get. He ordered two glasses of red wine for them before apologizing profusely to Pam.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am. This was not how tonight was supposed to go," he said rubbing his thumb over her wrist. Pam continued to smile warmly at him.

"Would you please stop apologizing? This is wonderful. The fact that you even went to this much trouble…it means a lot." Jim heard the compassion and understanding in her voice and began to relax. Table or no table, he was with her, and nothing could ruin that.

"Here you are, sir," the bartender said returning with a bottle of red wine. He placed two crystal glasses in front of them, pouring Pam's first before Jim's. When he had finished, Pam took her glass and raised it.

"What should we toast to?" she asked, eyes twinkling with excitement.

"To a new 'worst first date' story?"

Pam lightly slapped his wrist. "No, not at all. To…" she paused for a moment before smiling sweetly. "To us."

Jim grinned, softly clinking his glass with hers. "To us."

The evening went on and Jim soon forgot about the rough start to their night and began to just enjoy his present company. Pam talked about the various oddities he missed while in Stamford, and Jim regaled her with stories of sending faxes to Dwight from his future self and the first prank he ever pulled on Andy.

"So he sees the calculator in Jell-O, and goes ballistic. Not like slightly-annoyed-Dwight, I mean could-cause-bodily-harm mad," Jim explained to Pam, who was nearly crying with laughter.

"I'm thinking 'Oh god, what have I gotten myself into?' when all of a sudden he starts pounding his fist on the desk." Jim mimicked Andy and pounded his fist on the bar counter. He continued to pound when suddenly he hit too close to his wine glass, causing it to spill all over Pam's crisp, white dress. Jim's face fell in horror as she bolted upright out of her stool.

"Oh my God…shit," he cursed, looking frantically around for a towel. Pam stood there dripping, her arms splayed out from her sides and her face flushed with embarassment. Jim leapt behind the bar and finally found a damp rag, ignoring the yells of protest he heard from the bartender. He jumped over the bar once more and kneeled down to wipe where the wine had stained.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'll take it to the cleaners. No, I'll buy you a new a dress, I'll do anything—" he stopped as heard hysterical laughter coming from above him. He looked up to see Pam's mouth open wide and eyes shut tight, trying to catch her breath as she continued to shriek with laughter.

Jim looked around the restaurant to see tables muttering and shaking their heads and he too began to laugh loudly. He then noticed an angry man he presumed was the manager marching toward them.

"I'm going to have to ask the two of you to leave, right now," he fumed. "And I ask that you never step foot in the restaurant again. Ever."

Jim and Pam managed to force out apologies in between bouts of laughter as they made their way back out to the parking lot.

xxx

"I can't believe I'm banned from another restaurant," Pam said while chewing her cheeseburger. "That makes two before I'm even thirty."

Jim shook his head as he bit into a French fry. "I can't believe I cleared that bar. If it had been just a couple inches wider, you probably would have had to carry me out of there."

"I'm pretty sure the manager would have been more than happy to remove you from there in whatever way possible." She giggled before sipping her soda. "Who knew we were such delinquents?"

After being thrown out of the restaurant and composing themselves in the car, Jim and Pam agreed that what was hurting the night was the pressure they had both put on it. They realized that trying so hard to make it perfect had ultimately led to disaster and they decided to make the rest of the evening as casual as possible.

Which was why they now sat cross-legged on Pam's couch, dining on cheeseburgers, French fries and Coke. Pam had showered to get the smell of red wine off of her and had changed into flannel pajama pants and a University of Scranton t-shirt while Jim promptly removed his dress shoes and tie. It was comfortable, laid-back and utterly perfect.

Pam raised her cup. "I want to make another toast."

Jim smirked. "To your ongoing streak of restaurant banishment!"

"That," Pam winked at him. "And to second chances."

Jim smiled genuinely as they tapped their paper cups together and settled in for the beginning of their second chance.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry this one took a bit longer than usual; I just was not in the zone this week. But muchos gracias to Cousin Mose for once again coming to the rescue and saving me from what could have been a truly terrible chapter. I think this story really has only one chapter left in it, so be on the lookout for the conclusion. Once again, you guys are great with reviews, I truly appreciate them. **

Monday mornings were never something to look forward to, especially if what you're going to is an eight-hour day of selling paper. It wasn't exactly a huge motivator to get up in the morning. But that particular Monday, when Jim's alarm sounded promptly at 6:30 am, he gladly opened his eyes and stretched in his bed. He reached his arms behind his head, gazing at the ceiling and remembering the night before.

_Pam let out a huge yawn, her head resting on the end of her couch and her eyes blinking slowly._

"_Tired?" Jim asked with a laugh._

_She shook her head defiantly, a few curls falling in front of her face before she tucked them away._

"_You're a very bad liar."_

_But before she could protest, her mouth opened into another yawn. _

"_Okay, I give," she said with a pout._

"_Well, we do have work in…" Jim glanced at his watch. "…Six hours."_

_Pam groaned before her face suddenly brightening with a smile. "So, then I'll get to see you again in six hours," she said while moving to the front door with Jim._

_He took her hand, swinging it gently at his side. "I guess that's true." They reached the door, hands still clasped and eyes locked on each other. Jim looked at the perfection in front of him and decided she was worth another risk. He bent his head toward hers and was met halfway with her lips gently pressing into his. It lasted for only a moment, but in that instant, time didn't matter._

Jim sighed as he replayed the night over and over in his head. Thought it had gotten off to a shaky start, they had managed to pull through and make it an unforgettable night. He hoped there were many more nights like that to come.

It was the first time since starting there that Jim was actually excited to pull into the Dunder-Mifflin parking lot. The thought of seeing Pam had always been a perk in his years there, but had its obvious drawbacks since she was at the time taken. Now he could freely spend time with her at work without worrying about certain beer-gutted warehouse workers beating him to a pulp. Though considering recent developments, that might still be the case.

Plus there was Karen to think about. They had ended on good terms and yet he still had to be sensitive to the fact that she was still working there and would observe any interaction between him and Pam. Jim had been on that end once before and knew it wasn't the most pleasant feeling.

He pulled open the heavy door to the office expecting to see the sight that had greeted him every workday for five years. Instead, he saw Ryan sitting at the reception desk.

"Hey man," Jim said, trying to sound casual. "Where's Pam?"

"She called in sick," Ryan said flatly, not looking up from the computer.

"Is she okay?" Jim's eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Ryan merely shrugged and continued to click away at the keyboard. Jim quickly went to his desk, a flurry of insecurities racing through his mind. Maybe she wasn't really sick, maybe she didn't want to come to work because she was having second thoughts, maybe she felt like she couldn't face Karen…

"Hey," Karen's voice brought Jim back from his thoughts. He looked up to find her leaning against his desk.

"Hey," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"Just thought you should know that I worked all the paperwork out with Toby, so if you need to…you know, whatever, with Pam, you're good to go," she smiled weakly.

"Oh, thanks…you didn't have to do that. I could have…"

"No, don't worry about it. Granted, it was one of the more humiliating moments in my life, but I was due for one of those anyway."

Guilt tugged at Jim, "Anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Karen thought for a moment. "A bag of Herr's chips and all is forgiven."

Jim smiled. "You got it." He gave her a high-five causing both of them to laugh and silently agree that though it might be difficult at first, an eventual friendship between the two was in the works.

His attention turned back to his computer as a "ping" sound indicated that there was e-mail waiting for him. Jim felt his whole body relax as he saw the single item in his inbox:

_To: Pepto Bismol is gross_

_I'm hoping you've figured out by now that I'm not at work, and if you haven't, that means we have bigger problems on our hands than me being sick. Yes, you read correctly, I am truly sick. As it turns out, that burger and I didn't seem to agree. I was throwing up all night (sorry for the gruesome mental image but it's true). Anyway, while I can't complain about a day off, I can complain about not getting to see you. Last night was perfect (besides the whole leg injury, my now-red dress and evil burger thing) and I was looking forward to seeing you, even if it was at work and I would mainly be looking at the back of your head._

_But I think I'll be well enough to come in tomorrow. Start thinking of a good prank to pull on Dwight so my immune system will have some incentive._

_Now get back to work, slacker._

_-Me_

Jim was relieved to find that she hadn't regretted their date but continued to worry, as he thought of her home alone and sick. He made a mental note to swing by her place after work.

The day wore on more slowly than usual. Jim trudged through his list of sales calls, working on autopilot the entire time. Make the call, give the pitch, close the deal, and start all over again. He'd had little to no interaction with anyone for most of the day, seeing as how Dwight had been sent on an errand by Michael and his only real ally was at home cursing fast food. So he was actually grateful when he saw Toby approach his desk, a few sheets of paper in his hand.

"Hey Jim," he said in his timid voice. "I'm going to need your signature on these papers saying that you and Karen—"

"Hey hey hey," Michael barged out of his office, pointing at Toby. "Why are you talking to him?"

"It's just some HR business, Michael, it's really none of your concern," Toby spoke slowly, an edge of annoyance creeping into his words. Jim sighed as he waited for the argument that would inevitably come.

"Oh, I think it is my concern. Jim is my homie and anything he has to say to you, he can say to me…even though he's probably already said it to me…because we're homies," Michael concluded, folding his arms across his chest.

Jim rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "Look, let me just sign these things and then I'll come to talk to you—" Jim stopped mid-sentence as Michael snatched the documents from Toby's hands. "Or you can invade my privacy, sure."

Michael scanned over the papers. "Well, well, well, it looks like you and Ms. Fillipelli are no longer registered as a couple. I think I know what that means, you dog!" Michael rustled Jim's hair and laughed maniacally. Jim was incredibly grateful Karen had left for lunch and would be spared the humiliation of seeing their breakup celebrated by the most tactless man in the world.

"I guess we know why Pam didn't come in to work today, probably too sore to walk…" Michael muttered, playfully jabbing his elbow into Jim's arm.

"Michael, that's really inappropriate," Toby weakly chastised.

"Shut it, Toby. Just because you're not getting any doesn't mean we can't celebrate those who are."

Jim dropped his face in his hands, lacking the energy to argue. Toby merely rolled his eyes and took the papers back from Michael, handing them to Jim.

"Just have them signed by the end of the day," he said dejectedly as he walked away. Jim nodded in compliance before looking back at Michael who held out a clenched fist, waiting for Jim to hit it with his own. Instead, Jim turned back to his computer, concentrating hard on the work in front of him until he heard Michael finally walk back into his office.

xxx

"You brought me soup!" Pam took grocery bag from a smiling Jim at her front door.

"And," he said, reaching into the other bag in his hand. "Gatorade." Pam made a face as she shuffled back into her bedroom.

"I know you don't like it, but you can't get dehydrated. Besides, I got you the Very Berry flavor," Jim said following her, holding up the bottle with pride.

Pam nestled back into her bed with a smile. "Well I suppose if it's Very Berry…" she winked at him. "So how was work?"

"Let's see, where to begin," munching on a bag of chips he had picked up for himself. "Karen took the initiative to deal with HR about us not being together anymore." Pam winced at the sound of her name.

"Don't worry, she's actually handling it really well. We talked a bit today and I think we're on good terms," Jim reassured. "But Toby also needed my signature on the whole thing and of course who should appear just as he walks over but…"

"Michael," Pam finished for him, shaking her head in dismay.

"You bet. He made this huge deal about it and speculated that the reason you didn't come in today was because you were 'too sore to walk.'"

Pam scoffed. "Don't I wish." Jim nearly choked on a chip and looked at her incredulously. What little color she had left in her face had drained and her eyes were wide.

"I didn't mean—no, I meant that—instead of me throwing up—" Pam buried her face in her hands with a groan.

Jim smiled and rubbed his hand across her back. "Don't worry about it. Though I must say, I'm glad you have enough confidence in my skills to think that I could actually do that…"

Pam grabbed a pillow and hit him playfully. "Not funny!" Jim just laughed more before holding up his hands.

"Okay, okay, I surrender. I'm sorry," he said, kissing her forehead. "Tell you what, I'll go make this soup for you. When I get back, I'll tell you what I have planned for Dwight tomorrow."

Pam's face brightened. "Deal."

Jim fumbled his way around Pam's kitchen, trying to find bowls and silverware without having to disturb her. It made him feel good to take care of her, as he had always promised himself that he would if he ever got the chance. Now that that chance was here, he had no intention of letting it slip away. He made his way back into her bedroom, soup in hand, to find her fast asleep. Though he could see that her sickness had taken a toll on her, she still looked angelic with her brown curls framing her face as they splayed out across her pillow. Jim set the bowl down on her nightstand and kneeled down so he was at eye-level with her. He stroked her face lightly and kissed her on the cheek causing her to stir.

"Jim?" she whispered, her eyes still closed.

"It's okay, go back to bed. Your soup is next to you when you're ready for it. Get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow." He got up to leave but felt her hand grasp his.

"Stay with me?" she asked quietly, now looking at him in a way that let him know she didn't just mean for the night.

He smiled and nodded. "Of course."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: As much as it pains me to say it, this is the last chapter. This was such a fun story to write and I thank all of you so much for your support. I'm already tossing around ideas for more Office fics, so this is not the last from me! Enjoy!**

**Epilogue**

Weddings do funny things to people. Maybe it's the champagne, or the traditions, or nieces throwing rose petals as they walk down the aisle, but weddings have this way of shedding light on a rare side of the human race. They make assistants to the regional manager blink back tears, they make uptight accountants unwind, and make human resources employees crack a smile.

And they especially make a paper salesman and a receptionist burst with joy.

They had snuck off to a hallway when the DJ had the audacity to play the Bunny Hop, grabbing two plates of wedding cake as they scurried off. Pam leaned against the wall and sunk down to the floor, her veil sliding over her head as she did. Jim sat against the opposite wall, kicking off his too-tight dress shoes and loosening his tie.

"The Bunny Hop?" Pam asked in between a fit of giggles.

"It wasn't my idea…though I'm still waiting for the Macarena I requested."

Pam took off her veil and used it to hit Jim playfully in the arm. "Hey, where did Michael and Jan run off to?"

Jim shrugged taking a bite of cake. "I think after she caught your bouquet she ran for the nearest exit and Michael wasn't too far behind her." He paused and smiled at her. "You and your dad looked good dancing out there."

Pam smoothed out a wrinkle in her white satin dress and pulled her knees to her chest. "I think he'd been practicing, he was so scared of stepping on my feet."

The two simultaneously let out a huge sigh, causing both of them to laugh.

"Weddings are exhausting," Pam said while stifling a yawn.

"Good thing this is the only one you'll have to go through."

"Promise?" She asked, her voice timid.

Jim gave her a smirk. "Isn't that what I just did about a half hour ago? You know, on that altar, with all those people watching…"

"Alright, smart guy, I get it."

They continued to sit in the hallway, savoring their time alone since they had barely been able to see each other during the reception. Numerous women, with Kelly leading the pack, had been fawning over Pam the entire time, and Michael had dragged Jim aside to give him advice about the wedding night. And while the newlyweds appreciated their friends' and families' support, they were happiest in that hotel hallway, laughing as they fed each other wedding cake.

"Well, Beesley, we did it," Jim said, taking Pam's hand in his.

She grinned at him. "Yes we did, except you know you can't call me that anymore."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not Beesley anymore," Pam stated, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.

"I don't know if there's enough room in Scranton, PA for two Halperts. Besides, I fell in love with you calling you Beesley, it brings back good memories," he said leaning forward, kissing her on the forehead.

"Well then I suppose it's okay," Pam said with a wink. She scooted across the floor to sit next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Jim laced his left hand through hers and gazed at the two glimmering rings before him.

"This was a good day," Pam sighed with contentment.

"I should hope so. But you know what will be a better one?"

Pam looked up at him and frowned. "What?"

He bent his head down till their noses touched. "Tomorrow," Jim said, kissing her softly. "The day after."


End file.
